I do not own Avatar, nor it's characters. They belong to Mike and Bryan.

When I wrote the prologue, I didn't think it was going to be so long. I split it into sections, so here's Part I.

Prologue (Part I)

She knew she was going to die. Alone, on this ship, in the middle of the ocean. The only thoughts she had were of the slow pain in her stomach and the frightening absence of faces. Never seeing her family again, not remembering her family.

All the little girl could envision was faceless bodies, circling her, laughs echoing off the ice around her. She could not recall names or even the feelings associated with their clouded images. She could only think of the horrors that she had done on this ship. Men, frozen.

As she laid on the deck of the metal warship, waiting for the end, she promised the spirits of the moon and ocean that she would never again use her bending. Not until she could control her monster.

"Leaves from the vine fall-ed so slow like fragile, tiny shells drif-in' in the foam." She sang softly, tears streaming down her face and freezing in their tracks. She used to listen to the old women sing, it was the strongest memory she had. "Little sold-ed boy, come marchin' home. Brave sold-ed boy, come marchin' home."

She was so tired, so hungry, the sea was so calm, as if it were rocking her to sleep.

"Leaves… from… the vine…" She let the darkness take her.

But it would not have her. Something of great size and power rammed the side of the boat, jostling her into a frenzied panic that was only controlled by her weakened state. She heard yelling, but it sounded farther away than it really was. Her eyes clouded with more tears and her limbs grew heavy once again. She slumped onto the deck, pressing her ear against the floor to listen to the heavy thrum of boots as men boarded her ghost ship.

A young man dressed in the usual attire of a Fire Nation Soldier, made his way slowly toward her while ordering his men to search the rest of the ship.

"What do we have here?" The man asked, crouched to examine the tiny child caught in a net. "A little koala otter?" He withdrew as she tried to bite him, her eyes still closed. "Hm, a minksnake perhaps."

"Captain." A man standing in the doorway leading to the ship's underbelly saluted. "The crew is...um…"

"Spit it out, lieutenant." He sighed. "We don't have all day."

"They've been…" He could not find the words, there were no words to describe what was below deck. "I think you should come and see."

The captain stood, curious, then addressed one of the men on his ship, which was much larger than the scouting vessel he currently stood on. "Find the doctor and have him look after the girl."

The messenger saluted, then ran to find the naval doctor abroad the warship. Meanwhile, the captain left to investigate below deck.

She was left to contemplate her sins and wish for eternal sleep. The thrum of the men's feet were lulling her to sleep. Her eyes felt heavy once more, the darkness calling again. It lifted her up, made her feel warm, happy. She remembered something similar, from before, it was on the tip of her tongue.

"Daddy?" She called against the abyss.

No one answered, but the warmth remained.

Lu Ten, Captain of the Snarling Dragon and Prince of the Fire Nation, son of the Dragon of the West, was torn between morals. The little girl they had found was the only explanation to what he saw on the Southern Raiders' ship, the Sea Raven. He faced a choice: follow his grandfather's orders and dispose of the young waterbender, or listen to his conscience.

He needed guidance, so he prepared a message to his father. The messenger hawk would take a week to make the round trip, but only if his father replied immediately; and General Iroh was known for two things: his godly ability to brew tea and his calm, calculating, and hesitant decision-making process. The captain respected and often craved his father's opinion on matters concerning the war they were in, especially when it came to mercy.

Once the messenger hawk was out of sight, Lu Ten went to check on his new shipmate in the infirmary. As he entered her tiny, makeshift quarters, he noted the food on the counter next to her had gone cold, untouched. She wore the white robes of a patient, but the fabric was much too big for her and it gave the appearance of an even smaller child, drowning in her mother's borrowed garments.

"I see you're refusing to eat now." He said, seating himself in the only chair in front of her.

She remained silent. A week had passed since they met and not a single word came from her mouth. He came and asked questions, told a few stories, but ultimately left without a conversation between the two. She was an empty shell, a husk. The physician had force fed her a few times, but everything she consumed came back up again. 'She's drinking, but no one can survive on water alone,' the doctor had told him, 'She'll die of malnutrition at this rate.'

"Still not speaking?" Lu Ten asked, a light smile on his face. Silence. "Do you have a name?" More silence.

He sighed and studied her face. A blank stare, dead eyes. She had lost the will to fight. She had attempted to take her life twice already and was now under watch; no knives allowed in the room and constant supervision to be sure she didn't strangle herself with her bed sheet, which had also been taken away along with the cutlery.

No child should commit suicide, Lu Ten thought, Is this what the war will leave in it's wake?

He sighed again out of frustration. "You may find this strange, but I don't wish for your death."

A sharp expression crossed her face, one of disbelief.

"It's true!" He assured her enthusiastically. "I don't want to see a child intentionally hurt themselves, whatever the reason. Childhood should be full of laughs and good memories. Not… what you're doing." He said slowly.

Her eyes grew hard, the emptiness returning to make opaque glass orbs of them. She knew what her actions would lead to, there was no misunderstanding in her eyes.

He took a deep breath. "My father once told me that the first step to redemption is forgiveness. Forgiveness from others and of ourselves. Dying will only leave unanswered questions and pain. It is a coward's way out." He explained. "You must have someone who you wish to protect, to see again. If you don't, then you will find someone." She gave him a confused look and he smiled. "Everyone needs someone else. No one can live alone." He picked up the cold bowl of rice and handed it to her. "And right now, I believe you need me."

He stood and walked out the door.

She stared down at the bowl in her hands and gave thought to his words. Her stomach growled and she frowned, studying the rice with all the concentration she had. She did have someone she wanted to see again, she just didn't know who; but she was determined to find out.

She dug her fingers into the rice and ate.

My Dear Son, Prince Lu Ten,

I cannot say that I have ever been in your situation, it is a very unique one. There are two sayings that may help you: 'the first duty of a soldier is obedience,' but 'it is little honor to the lion to seize the mouse.' I have faith that you will find the answer to this enigma. You are my son, after all.

From Your Father,

General Iroh